Glass Floor
by Dominae
Summary: Anger is a terrible driving force, but it's better than giving into despair. A one-shot exploring the character of Erinya, that racist asari on Illium. Please review!


Disclaimer: I don't own Bioware or anything related.

Since I like playlists, here's what I listened to:

Beloved Wife- Natalie Merchant

Reflections- ME 2 OST

Love Theme- ME OST

* * *

Denial. That had been her first reaction. Simple denial. She couldn't see how it could have happened. In what seemed like one sweeping moment, her bondmate had vanished, lost to the war that drove the quarians into exile. Lost to a fight that was not her own. Lost because of the collective stupidity of another species.

As she wept over the empty grave, anger had followed denial. She could not rage at the geth; it was impossible to hate what she had never seen, impossible to hate something that was little more than a shadow to her. So she turned to the quarians, and directed her fury at their shortsightedness, condemning a people that had been stripped of everything.

The anger was a bonfire that she warmed herself by; a burning flame to keep away the cold ache in her heart. But even that dimmed with time, leaving a distinct weariness that lifted only when she saw her daughters. They were beautiful and vibrant, just as their mother had been. They loved with such boundless passion, revelling in the different cultures that the Citadel provided. A day never went by without an email from one of them, telling of how they had heard the funniest joke from an elcor, or that they'd just talked to the first human Spectre.

Then the humans provoked an insane turian into leading the geth to the Citadel, and the messages didn't come anymore. She couldn't understand it at first; couldn't see anything other than unfair cruelty. As she groped blindly in the dark for something to make sense, for some reason to this madness, she latched onto anger once again. The humans had drawn the geth to the Citadel; they had turned that safe haven into the final battleground of their war. But her rage was fragile; it was no longer the all-consuming fire it had once been. It was a glass floor, breaking under the weight of her pain and threatening to let her fall into a black pit of agony.

In a desperate bid to keep her footing, she acted on her anger. When Zhu's Hope contacted Baria Frontiers for the medical contract, she wrote in a simple clause allowing for invasive procedures. She understood that her family could never be returned to her, but if she managed to salvage some useful data from the colonists, it would perhaps pay a fraction of the debt owed to her.

She knew that Zhu's Hope wouldn't just stand idly by and follow the contract, so there was no surprise when they sent someone to argue. It was, however, a bit disconcerting to see an asari fighting for the human colonists. Still, she would not waver. They had agreed to the contract, and she would see this small bit of justice done. And then the asari sent a human her way. A human!

She relished in lashing out at him, accusing him of the death of her family. Her wrath faded with every poisonous word, until the delicate glass floor was marred with cracks. She almost hoped that he would retaliate, give her some new reason for anger, but he simply took the brunt of her attacks quietly. As she finally turned away from him, whispering that medical knowledge was the only thing of worth to be gained from aliens, he inquired about her bondmate, about her daughters.

So she told him, in an attempt to make him understand the depth of her loss. She told him how her bondmate would insist on performing a quarian dance, or play their music, all the while tossing out trivia about their culture. She told him how her daughters sent messages every day; how they were so much like their beautiful mother, with their love of different lands and people. Tears made silent tracks down her face as she recalled just how much she had had torn from her.

"The galaxy is lesser for their loss."

Lesser for their loss. Yes. And she was the only one that seemed to care.

"Would they want you to do this?"

He struck. She flinched, stuttering a defense. But it was true; they would be sickened by this. The glass floor shattered, and she fell. She murmured something about sending an amended contract as she knelt on the ground, crying. The man held out his hand, and she started to stand again.

* * *

Haven't written in a long time, so I'm a bit rusty. Please review!


End file.
